wickedqueen.net

Man, how much do I want these benches for myself?

Or at least the pillows. I bet you could get appliques or something to make them…

It’s not the greatest photo, having been taken with my cell phone (although at least I managed to get it off the “postage stamp” setting–there was another photo from this weekend that would have been awesome but you don’t get to see it because it came out like 40 pixels wide), but I really wanted a shot of some of the oleander that is everywhere here, because it seemed perfect for a mix cover:

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Yesterday, Jeremy posted about his qualified love for “Rush” by Big Audio Dynamite. The circumstances under which he rediscovered the song are similar to those surrounding my download of Men Without Hats’ “Pop Goes the World” a couple of months ago, with the fortunate difference that “Pop Goes the World” does not contain an unbearable minute right smack in the middle of the song. Also I may be a little more embarrassed about “Pop Goes the World,” although I still think it has a slightly lower cheese factor than “Safety Dance.”

Anyway, I haven’t been listening to “Pop Goes the World” so much in the past few weeks, but I was inspired by Jeremy’s post to create a mix of songs that are a) relatively old and b) relatively well-known. The second criterion should make the resulting disc a radical departure from the mixes I usually do, I know. Or maybe I’m deluding myself about what constitutes “relatively well-known,” but I’ll have you know that I did not include Belinda Carlisle’s “Summer Rain,” although I love it madly, because no one ever knows what the hell I’m talking about when I mention it (also, if I recall correctly, I think Matt told me it actually came out in 1990 and I was trying for a true 80s mix). And I originally included “Buffy Come Back” by Angel & the Reruns, but pulled it because no one but my mother has ever recognized it, and really the whole point of a mix like this is how cool I’m not.*

Boy, there sure were a lot of bands called [Blank] and the [blanks] in the 80s, huh? Or just The [blanks]. Personally, I think there should be more bands with names that are sentences, like Ethan Hawke’s fictional Reality Bites band, Hey! That’s my bike! or my friend Karen’s imaginary nerd!emo band, Gondor Calls For Aid. I can’t think of any actual examples.

Anyway. The mix. The cover image is a slightly altered photo of me in my Lion-O Thunder Cats pajamas, circa 1985:

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Listening to my music collection on random, I just realized something: I really don’t like Bjork. I don’t, like, HATE Bjork. But every time a Bjork track comes on,* I skip it, because I don’t LIKE Bjork.

I don’t really like Dar Williams, either. Some of her stuff is okay. But that song “The Christians and the Pagans” makes me want to vomit.

On the other hand, I AM one of those hip young crafty people you hear so much about in poorly written college newspaper features:

Short (for me) scarf in half-double crochet using a skein and a half of Yarn Bee Beguile in “aegean,” raising the question: Is this supposed to be like the Red Sea? Are we supposed to believe that the Aegean is some kind of nightmarish Valentine’s cauldron of red, purple, and fuchsia? Am I spelling “fuchsia” correctly? Why can I never remember? (I wasn’t, but thanks to dictionary.com, you would never know if I weren’t so open about these things.)

I did figure out how to make hats last year, but I am lazy, and continue to mostly stick to rectangular objects although I’d really LIKE to make something more complex. I actually bought some Simply Soft recently because there was a pattern on the label for a cute striped sweater, even though I am absolutely terrible at following patterns and have so far not even attempted to get started on it.

I’ve always thought Bellweather was onto something with the whole “low skill threshhold” thing about fads–there’s a reason there are so many people knitting/crocheting scarves and blankets and not a whole hell of a lot else. I don’t WANT to be part of the trendy problem, but… see above re: laziness. At least my “aegean” scarf goes with my hair.

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*One might wonder, since I don’t like Bjork, why these tracks keep coming on. Why do I HAVE Bjork? I think it was an effort to show a college girlfriend that I was an appropriate mate. That doesn’t explain why I haven’t gotten rid of it in the six years since we broke up and stopped speaking, but I’m not always good with change.

I have way too much yarn. Last night, I started making a scarf out of some stuff that had originally been slated for Terri, but then I ended up making her Christmas scarf out of something else that was much nicer, leaving me with two skeins of Lion Homespun. So there I am making a scarf out of one of them because my parents are watching The Island* and I JUST saw it and it was a one-eye movie the first time around; I have to do SOMETHING with my hands, and I ask Sophie if she likes it and she says no, and god knows I don’t need any more scarves than I already have/have purchased materials for.

Hannah liked it, though, so I guess she’s getting an additional scarf (I made her a scarf and hat combo for Christmas). It did work up into nice stripes.

And yet, I feel like I should go to Hobby Lobby this week, because all their storebrand Yarn Bee yarn is 50% off, and it’s not like I won’t be buying more yarn at some point anyway, and it’s not like it GOES BAD or something. And the sparkly blue stuff that I want to use for a scarf for myself is Yarn Bee, and crazy expensive, and I need another skein of it.

I actually bought knitting needles a few days ago; all the Christmas stuff was 75% off, and there was this pack of candy cane striped knitting needles in like seven different sizes, which for $4 was a damn good deal. Not that I know how to knit, but it would sure make my mother happy if I learned. And I think some yarns just look better knit than crocheted. And maybe someday I’ll actually be able to make a sweater–it only took me about four years to graduate from rectangular objects to hats, after all.

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*My father is a geneticist, so you can imagine how excited he was when Ewan McGregor learned Latin from his CLONED DNA. Meanwhile, my mother made a pointed remark approximately every ten minutes about HOW MUCH BETTER The Island was than Fantastic Four. I’m not saying Fantastic Four was great art, but I think she has an unreasonable prejudice against it.

It’s amazing: you never notice how badly all the blankets in your house need to be washed until it’s Sunday afternoon and you have a shitload of academic work to do.*

I am somewhat entranced by the lint that my blankets generate: it is approximately 10 parts cat hair to one part body glitter. After this year’s Halloween costume,** I imagine our body glitter content will be high for some time.

Anyway, the nice thing about cheap acrylic afghans is that they wash and dry with ease. I also washed my giant rainbow scarf, which some people feel is better classified as a blanket, but who will be laughing in January, hmm?

Last night, when for some reason I just could NOT go to sleep, I spent some time thinking about a Fibonacci Sequence afghan, which would alternate stitches in Fibonacci numbers of rows: 1 row single stitch, 1 row double, 2 rows single, 3 rows double, 5 rows single… You get the picture. I’m just not sure what to count as the first row, because the chain row and the second row are a little different.

There was a MathNet once about the Fibonacci Sequence. I thought it was so cool. According to some random webpage I just googled, it also describes the procreation of rabbits. And what have I done lately?

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*And now I’m blogging.

**Photos forthcoming–I have some close-ups, but I’m hoping a full body shot from the party I attended came out, so that you can see my tail.

I was right about the pink streaks after all–I got my hair cut at the MATC cosmetology school yesterday (way out on Mineral Point, and I ended up stranded out there on the fucking far west side for HOURS largely due to a sign that claimed, erroneously as it turned out, that the #6 bus stopped there, but let’s not talk about that now)–anyway, the girl washed it before cutting, and afterwards I had some definite little patches on the tops of my bangs that had faded out SIGNIFICANTLY.

Fortunately, I know why this is, and it’s easy to fix–the blue/green dye was spent mostly on neutralizing the pink in those spots, leaving little color behind to actually make the hair BLUE. Now that it’s neutralized, however, I just need to redye the bangs and those spots should take the color much better. To this end, I picked up another bottle of Fishbowl on my way in to campus today.

There was a girl working today, and the transaction confirmed a suspicion I’ve held since earlier this month when I bought the first bottle: that guy totally gave me a discount. About $2.50’s worth. I think it’s because I’m so adorable.

I decided not to bother redying before the Halloween party tonight, though, because the patches are really only visible on the tops of my bangs, and I’m going to sort of pull them back for my costume. I’ve also decided to wrap some metallic green fabric over a strapless bra, bandeau style, rather than wear my actual metallic green bra–I think it will look better. And boy, do I have body glitter. And green fake eyelashes. And a green eye pencil. And blue lipstick.* Yeah, I ended up buying a little more in the way of costume accessories than I originally anticipated.

I stopped in at Walgreens for some Veet (recommended by Ang), and man, the pre-Halloween rush is in full force. Walking back to my apartment up State Street, I saw cops and a few people already in costume. You could not PAY me to go back there this weekend.

Anyway, I should probably get ready. I didn’t want to start too early because god knows I’ll be finding enough glitter around the apartment in weeks to come as it is. Actually, maybe I should have gotten one of those Lush glitter bath bombs like my friend Kristen sent me last year–I think I used it in, like, February, and I was finding glitter in my SHOES in JULY when I moved. Apparently I also shed a fair amount in the women’s bathroom on the third floor of social science… that’s probably not very professional.

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*Actually, it’s a blue “make-up stick” that included an injunction against putting blue or green make-up on your lips in the fine print on the back, but I figure if it was actually going to kill me dead, they’d have made the warning bigger. Maybe it stains. So if you see me next week and I have blue lips, that’s why.

Shortly after I got really fat,* I broke my favorite denim skirt because I refused to believe that I had gotten That Fat, and thus just kept trying to zip it against all physical feedback until it broke. I bet it would fit now, which makes it all the more irritating.

HOWEVER.

Today I found not one, as I had suspected there might be, but TWO pairs of jeans from my immediate post-Japan period (when I was very skinny**), and they both fit perfectly. They were in a box in the top of my closet, folded under a fancy heirloom coat that my grandmother gave me and my old purple leopard print bedspread.

I’m amazed that I kept them this long, since I’m pretty sure that I haven’t worn them in at least 2 1/2 years, and I have moved at least once in that time. But I’m certainly glad that I did, since they are now the best-fitting pants I’ve got.

On a related note, I’ve bagged up probably about 10 pairs of pants that are now just way too big, along with a few tops and other articles of clothing. Keely remarked that she’s read that dieters are advised to get rid of too large clothing, lest its presence lure them into regaining the weight, and that is something of a concern, but mainly, I am just too much of a clotheshorse to keep 10 pairs of pants that don’t even FIT me. I don’t have anywhere to STORE them.

I bought a sweater on State Street yesterday. It was on sale, but I still need to stop spending money, but on the other hand, my extant sweater collection HAS gotten pretty baggy and they had it in a medium. I’ll be glad when my weight stabilizes.

And on a different yet still culturally feminine note, I finished the scarf I was making for my friend Laura’s three-year-old daughter–well, I just need to put the fringe on it. I had a hard time deciding what the right length was, since I know that my personal tastes run to “ridiculous,” but I still wanted to make it long enough to wrap. I think it’s okay, though, and there should be enough of the Simply Soft Quick to make a hat for my OTHER elementary school friend’s baby. Everyone is reproducing.

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*I blame graduate school.

**I guess this might mean that I am once again “very skinny,” but it’s kind of hard to tell. I have kind of a strange body image right now.

As a big fan of folk songs, particularly the Sister-Killing Song (Child ballad #10), I enjoyed Things I’ve learned from British folk ballads quite a bit. Thanks for the link, Magpie!

Favorite comments:

“Your grey mare’s blood was never so red. Just saying.” (Elizabeth Bear) (ref: Child #13)

“If you’re in bed, and are threatened by an armed and angry man who says he can’t kill you while you’re naked, do not get up and get dressed.” (Teresa Nielsen Hayden) (ref: Child #81)

This also reminds me that I really need to finish the third in my “murder ballads for baby” mix CD series:

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Ang’s recent discussion in comments (see previous post) of strangers’ criticisms of her nose ring when she wore one has reminded me of something else I’ve been meaning to talk about: What Not to Wear.

I hate this show. I admit, I hated the IDEA of this show even before being subjected to it in actuality–I also hate the ending of The Breakfast Club where they “fix” Ally Sheedy and pretty much the entire concept of every Ugly Duckling teen dramedy culminating with She’s All That–but suddenly getting trapped with it at the gym in the cardio room, where every time I unthinkingly looked up at the TV bank I was bombarded with it, no escape, I think that I can honestly say that I would rather watch Fox News.

At least on Fox News nobody expects their victims to be GRATEFUL.

Let’s review. A team of style “experts” shows up at your house, takes all your favorite clothes and throws them away while telling you repeatedly how hideous they are and, more importantly, how hideous YOU are every time you wear them, and makes up for it by allowing you $5000 to buy “stylish” clothes of which they approve. They probably don’t let you go to St. Vinnie’s, either.

Furthermore, the style experts are not here because YOU felt that you needed wardrobe assistance. They are here because your friends and/or family called them. Your friends and/or family think you are hideous and embarrassing and should not be allowed outside on your own recognizance.

In the episode to which I was subjected, an artsy type in Seattle was deprived of, among other things, a green peasant skirt and LEOPARD PRINT GALOSHES.* Admittedly, I personally try not to pair peasant skirts with baggy shirts as this woman did, but I still don’t go around snatching items of clothing out of people’s hands because I don’t agree with their sartorial choices. And it’s not even as if the fashion team offers suggestions like “maybe you could wear this stuff that you really like with other stuff that complements it better.” It is all, “Your clothes suck. You suck. You can’t wear that, fatty.”

Okay, they actually said she had “broad shoulders,” but I think we know what they meant.

And while I don’t want to blame the victims, I don’t want to say that they’re blameless, either. I watched this woman sacrifice most of her self-respect in the five or ten minutes of the show that I accidently took in. It’s a difficult position–after all, your friends and/or family called these people because you are so hopeless–but dammit, show a spine. Don’t let TLC buy you off with $5000 worth of new clothes about which you are EVEN NOW expressing reservations.

Don’t let them them suck every last drop of personal expression out of your CLOTHES. I mean, look at the INTRO to this show. It’s supposed to be all fun and MAGICAL, but in fact it’s like the Blue Meanies freezing Pepperland. Happy-looking couple–bam! Famous Barr mannequins! Slightly goth woman–bam! Ally McBeal!

BAD MAGIC, dammit.

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*If I had leopard print galoshes, I would shiv the man who tried to take them from me.